


And All The Kings Horses

by hiraethamfeirion



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Multi, Queen Cousland (Dragon Age), unexpected team up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-05-28 17:39:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19399111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiraethamfeirion/pseuds/hiraethamfeirion
Summary: The search for the cure leads the Warden-Commander to two unlikely companions joining her on her quest. With the rise of Corypheus however, Tess Cousland cannot let the Inquisition continue without her help.Fate has other ideas.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Unexpected team ups are my jam.

Soldier’s Peak was warm this time of year. Unseasonably warm for Ferelden. Tess finds herself missing the usual chill of southern Ferelden before realising it’s been a long time since she was even there. Recently returning from Antiva, Tess has grown accustomed to balmier weather and more tropical fauna. The old familiar landscape of Northern Ferelden makes her heart swell. Before coming to Soldier’s Peak she had briefly visited Highever, keeping a low profile, to see her brother. Fergus had chastised her, as he always did, about her self-inflicted exile from public life. Then he had embraced her as if she were still a small child and told her that he loved her.

A Theirin she might have been for the past ten years but a Cousland she would always be first and last. 

Tess had interrupted her ‘self-inflicted’ solitary travels, as Fergus had called it, to visit the old Warden base and speak with Avernus. Not many Wardens knew of his continued existence high in the keep save herself and Alistair and she knew there would be outrage if the Chantry discovered him and his experiments with blood magic. It was a means to an end letting him live years before. Avernus’ discoveries could be groundbreaking and his ability to extend his own life could be a key to finding a cure for the Darkspawn Taint. 

_ A Warden does what a Warden must.  _ When Tess was a younger woman, she would have disagreed but now she finds herself accepting more and more the very things the Chantry shuns. 

Not that she’s held a torch for the Chantry in a  _ long  _ time.

It had been no use however. Avernus’ research could not give her what she desired when she had gone to speak with him.  _ He was close,  _ he had told her. But close wasn’t good enough for Tess when she could already hear the song thrumming in her veins and voices whispering sweetly in her head. Her time may be up soon but she’d be damned if she couldn’t find a way to free her brothers and sisters before she has to descend to the Deep Roads for the final time.

Thus she began her journey south to Amaranthine and avoided Denerim like the plague. The city is too big of a hurdle to cross just yet. She can’t bear to see Alistair when she knows she will have to leave him again.

_ The cure she’s searching for, _ she tells herself,  _ is for him. _

Ferelden needs a king who will not die prematurely from the Darkspawn taint and Tess needs him to live because the alternative is too terrible to consider. She will not watch the man she loves fall to the Calling. It can take her, for all she cares, but she could not allow it to claim him.

She travels light, the bare essentials in a saddle pack on the back of a trusty Ferelden mare with a dark and shining coat she has named Gwawr. A cloak, tattered and old conceals her Warden armor so as not to draw attention and her knives sit on her belt just in reach. Tess had traded her longbow to a merchant in Highever in exchange for some elfroot and the space on her back where it usually sits feels empty.

The journey does not take her long. Two days riding on horseback with stops to rest along the way. Tess does not want to linger where she might be recognised by someone so close to the capitol.

Tess’ return to Vigil’s Keep after over two years travelling almost startles her in how routine and otherwise mundane everything is. For a Grey Warden base, that is. In truth, she had not originally planned to return at all but Leliana had contacted her recently with news: the Divine Conclave at the Temple of Sacred Ashes has been destroyed and a war has broken out between the Mages and Templars.

And that’s not even mentioning the great big tear in the sky.

Tess tries to comprehend everything that has imploded so suddenly across Thedas but finds it difficult. Thus, she returns to Amaranthine to collect herself and find answers. She does not conceal her identity upon her arrival but she also does not announce it. It’s not that Tess wants her whereabouts a  _ secret _ per se but the attention of a Warden-Commander Queen who’s been gone without so much as one letter for two years is the opposite of what Tess needs.

Rubbing away a throbbing headache, Tess approaches the keep inconspicuously, and leads Gwawr to the stables, patting her neck reassuringly as she secures her reigns. Entering through a servant’s door, she heads to where she remembers the living quarters are. Knocking on Nathaniel’s door first, there is no answer, so she tries Sigrun’s second. It swings open almost instantly.

“Tess,” Sigrun starts, surprised, “When we received your letter saying you were coming back, I didn’t expect you’d be here so soon.” 

“I was journeying from Soldier’s Keep so it wasn’t too long a trip,” she smiles, “How are you? How are things at the keep?” 

They walk leisurely to the common room as Sigrun tells Tess all about life at the keep; the continued reinforcements added to the defences, the boon in trade in the city and recruiting new Wardens. Nathaniel is in the Free Marches, she learns, continuing to investigate the Dwarven thaigs there. Oghren meets them in the common room and for a moment Tess pretends that it’s the good old days.

As good as the old days can feel with the ghosts of those absent hanging over their shoulders. They used to sit here in this room until late in the night with drinks and stories all around. Velanna would skulk around the edge before she’d eventually be convinced to join in, Nate would tell stories about a little Tess running around Highever at four years old trying to join in on his and Fergus’ games and Anders would try to out-drink Oghren and fail. Again.

Which brings her to why she came here.

“I need to find Anders,” she says, interrupting Oghren’s loud regaling of a tale involving copious amounts of ale and a tap-dancing genlock. 

The two Dwarves look at her, stunned. 

“Anders?” Sigrun says, nervous, “you do know he-”

“Blew up the Kirkwall Chantry?” says Tess, “Yeah.”

Leliana had told her all. The crazed Knight-Commander and the escalated tension in the Circle. A right of Annulment and a grand ol’ explosion that triggered the start of the Mage-Templar war.  _ Oh yeah, _ she thinks,  _ I’m aware. _

That’s why she wants to find him.

“I know he left us a long time ago but I need his help.”

“What do you need  _ that guy’s _ help for when ol’ Oghren is right here?” Oghren belches.

Tess rolls her eyes.

“When we went to the Architect’s lab,” Tess says, recounting the events of many years before, “We took the research to study what he was doing with Warden blood and Anders was the one looking into it.”

“He took the research with him?”

“No idea,” Tess says, “maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. Or it got destroyed when the keep was assaulted or being rebuilt. Who knows.”

Tess sighs.

“But I think he might have learned some things that could help in looking for the cure.”

Sigrun and Oghren look at each other anxiously, then they lean in.

“There was a senior Warden here from Orlais called Stroud with some Warden from the Free Marches I think,” says Sigrun, voice dropping to a whisper, “He said he’s investigating Wardens going missing all over.”

“Warden’s are disappearing?”

This is the first Tess has heard of it. Granted, she’s had little to no communication from anyone save Leliana’s letters for quite some time. Still, this is more concerning than she’d thought.

“He said that it’s a false calling that we’re all hearing but Warden-Commander Clarel says-”

“Wait,” Tess interrupts, “What false Calling?”

“You haven’t been hearing it?” asks Oghren.

_ Of course she’s been hearing it _ . Not a day has gone past since the song started singing in her head that she hasn’t despaired over it. Riordan had told her years before how Warden’s usually lived for approximately thirty years after their joining. She had hoped this would be the case for herself, desperate and afraid of the alternative.

Tess had thought that the Calling had come early for her. Ten years of being a Warden and she would soon head to the deep roads to die.  _ Or maybe not.  _ Hope sparks something in Tess’ chest.

“I thought it was just me,” she confesses, “I thought my time was over. Are you telling me every Warden is hearing it?”

Sigrun looks at her sympathetically.

“Everyone is hearing it,” she confirms, “Warden-Commander Clarel says it’s time we seek out the Old Gods ourselves. She wants us to join the Wardens in Orlais in killing them before they become Archdemons.”

“Is she mad?” Tess says, outraged.

She had met Clarel only one time and she had seemed a remarkable woman and Grey Warden. She cannot imagine what could be going through her head to believe that awakening the Old Gods is a good idea. 

“And Stroud?” she asks, “You said he’s calling it a hoax.”

“Yeah,” says Oghren. “When he was ‘ere, he said not to listen to the Wardens in Orlais. Not like we do that anyway!”

“When he was here? Is he no longer at the keep?”

“No. He said the other Wardens had branded him a traitor before he left. I have no idea where he went.”

“Left behind ‘is friend though.”

The Warden from the Free Marches, Tess recalls, perhaps they know more. 

“And what do you think of this?”

Oghren shrugs.

“Sound’s like nugshit to me.”

Sigrun looks less convinced.

“What if we could end all blights forever? Wouldn’t that be good?”

It would be bloody amazing, Tess thinks, she just doesn’t know how Clarel is planning on doing that. And if this mass Calling is all fake then there’s more to this than she knows. She needs to speak with that Warden.

“Of course,” Tess answers truthfully, “but I don’t know enough about what’s happening right now. Please promise me you two won’t go to Orlais while I’m gone. I need to find out more about this.”

“You’re leaving again?” Sigrun says at the same time Oghren says, “That’s not a problem, Boss.”

“I need to know more about what’s going on with Clarel. This Warden Stroud may have answers.” she says. “And if I find Anders on the way, well the more the merrier.”

Sigrun and Oghren point Tess to the room newly occupied by the Marches Warden and she bids them a warm goodbye and a promise to return. She’s missed them and missed the keep. It will be hard to leave it again. The two disappear with a promise of their own not to speak a word of her visit and then it’s just Tess again. Facing the world by herself once more. Only now Tess finds she has a more pressing mission on her hands than finding the cure. What is the point in curing Wardens if there are no Wardens left to cure? Clarel’s supposed madness is troubling indeed.

  
  


Taking a deep breath, Tess knocks on the door. 

The Warden who opens the door is a man roughly Tess' age. Brown hair cut short and pale blue eyes. 

"Uh," he says, "and you are?" 

His accent is Ferelden, which Tess hadn't been expecting from a supposed Marcher. She decides not to linger on it for the moment, with more pressing matters at hand. 

"Warden-Commander Cousland," she says crisply, the title rolling off her tongue much more easily than she'd expected after not using it for so long, "I was informed you arrived here with Warden Stroud?" 

The man stares at her for a moment and he must know who she is because his mouth is hanging open and he's quite forgotten to shut it. 

"Warden-Commander," he says, straightening and then coughs, "Um, Your Majesty." 

Tess fights the urge to roll her eyes and her head pounds a little harder. She has not heard  _ that title  _ for quite some time.

"That would be me. Do you have any idea where your Senior Warden went to?" 

He glances around as if to check if anyone's listening. 

"He's been excused from the order," he says, "a traitor to the Wardens of Orlais." 

Tess leans in. 

"And do you believe that, Warden-?" 

"Hawke," he says, "Warden Hawke. And no, I don't believe he's a traitor." 

That's what she was hoping to hear. Warden Hawke could either help her find Stroud or give her the information she needs without having to track the man down herself. 

Tess ushers him back into his room and shuts the door behind her so that they are less likely to be overheard.

“This Calling or False Calling,” she says urgently, “Do you know what’s causing it? Does Stroud know?”

“No,” Hawke confesses and Tess’ stomach twists with disappointment, “that’s where Stroud’s gone - to find out what’s happening.”

“Why are you not with him?” Tess asks, “he brings you all the way to Vigil’s Keep and then leaves you here?” 

Hawke looks rather put off by the whole situation himself. If Tess could liken his current expression to something else it would be of a grumpy child about to throw a tantrum. 

“Tell me about it,” he says, annoyance clear in his voice, “he said he wanted me to stay here to prevent any more Ferelden Wardens joining the order in Orlais but I reckon he just wanted me out of the way.” 

“Hmm.”

Tess isn’t sure where to go from here. The singing in her head is apparently a lie but nobody can tell her who the liar is and she’s no closer to finding out why Wardens are disappearing  _ or _ finding a cure to the Calling.

“Well, uh, thank you Warden Hawke,” she says finally, drawing back from her intensity, “I best be on my way - I have to discover more about this.”

She has her hand on the door ready to leave when Hawke calls out to her.

“Wait!” he says rather loudly before visibly checking himself, “let me come with you. I can do more help with you than I can stuck here.”

Tess smiles wryly at his eagerness.

“And disobey a direct order from your Senior commander?”

Warden Hawke does not falter.

“In all honesty, Warden-Commander, I was not planning on listening to him the moment he left me here.”

Tess likes him, she decides. He reminds her a little of herself; hotheaded but a level mind. He wants to do what’s right and doesn’t fear the repercussions of going against orders. Frankly, Tess believes the order needs more men like this. Following orders will only get you so far.

“Okay, Hawke,” she says, “you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Thank you,” he says, visibly exhaling, “but please - it’s Carver. The Hawke name is usually reserved for my brother.”

“Alright then, Warden Carver,” says Tess, the beginning tendrils of thrill weaving in her stomach, “are you ready to hunt down an old friend?”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're not familiar with the Awakening DLC then a bunch of this might be confusing but it should be fine to understand even if you've never played it.

They set up camp some way east of the city of Amaranthine having left Vigil’s Keep immediately upon Tess and Carver’s agreement which had been just past midday. Navigating their way through the city and out the other side without anyone recognising her had been a task indeed.

Until recently, Tess had been used to the anonymity she’d gained in Antiva as no one knew what the Queen of Ferelden looked like that far away from home. Here however, everybody knows her face and she’s not all too pleased about it.

Carver had taken a dappled grey horse from the stables before they left the Keep and now both he and Gwawr are secured and grazing quite contently at the edge of their camp.

Tess feels at peace in a rural campsite. She’s found she prefers it to the lavish bed in Denerim’s Palace. She had missed it in Antiva too, Zevran having insisted they stay in ‘respectable establishments’ that had proper beds. If one of those establishments happened to be a brothel, well who was Tess to judge?

“So who are we looking for exactly?” Carver asks over stirring a weak stew they have bubbling over the fire, “I didn’t actually ask before.”

Probably because he’d been so eager to leave Vigil’s Keep that he’d decided to save any pressing questions for when they were too far away for Tess to change her mind, she wagers.

“An old friend,” she starts evasively, giving the same answer she had before, “maybe a little controversial considering what’s going on across Thedas so we’ll have to keep it on the down low.”

Carver’s eyebrows furrow.

_“Considering what’s going on across Thedas?_ ” Carver repeats, “what are they, a renegade apostate or something?”

He chuckles a bit at his own words, clearly a reference to something. Tess is distinctly aware of how accurately he’s hit the nail on the head.

“More or less,” she says truthfully, “He left the Wardens some time ago before heading to the Free Marches actually. His name is Anders and-”

“Anders!?” Carver almost tips the broth over as his outburst sends him standing abruptly, “You’re looking for _Anders?_ _Fucking Anders?!”_

“You know him?” she asks, surprised. Or perhaps details of Kirkwall’s Chantry explosion were more widespread than she’d thought.

_“Know him?”_ Carver is pacing now, arms flying everywhere with each word, “I met him in Kirkwall when my damned brother was trying to find a way into the Deeproads with stupid Varric and-”

He’s raging now and Tess watches him pace back and forth in amazement. Know _of_ Anders perhaps, but Tess hadn’t expected this Warden to actually have known him personally.

“-and I was fucking there when he blew the fucking Chantry up now my brother’s a bloody revolutionist and a wanted man! I mean he’s always been fucking stupid but-”

_Brother?_ Tess thinks. Oh, _Hawke._ She knew she recognised the name.

“Wait,” she says, interrupting him, “your brother is the Champion of Kirkwall?”

Carver looks at her wildly and Tess thinks it wouldn’t be far-fetched if he started ripping his hair out in stress. She can imagine him stomping his feet in frustration all to easily.

“Oh yes, _everyone’s_ heard of my brother,” he moans, “I’d say I wouldn’t be surprised if the damn Queen of Ferelden had read Varric’s book but then _you are the bloody Queen of Ferelden!”_

“Actually my contact in the Inquisition told me about Kirkwall,” she says thinking of Leliana's letters, “I haven’t read any book I promise.”

Carver deflated a little.

“Oh? Oh - uh - good,” he says, calmer now, “uh, don’t. It’s a load of bollocks.”

“Noted,” she says, “will you please sit down - the stew is going to burn.”

Glibly, Carver sits back down and takes the stew off the fire.

“What are you looking for Anders for?” he says, voice quieter but still strained.

“I’m hoping he can help me find a cure for the Calling.”

Carver blinks at her.

“You want to cure the Calling?”

“Yes,” she says, “for all of us.”

Tess tells Carver what she told Sigrun and Oghren this morning about the research Anders might know of but is evasive with the details. So much of being a Warden means keeping secrets that the Order itself has become a web of half truths and hidden lies. She doesn’t reveal anything about Avernus or the Architect yet; she needs to know she can trust Carver absolutely.

Carver mulls this over silently for a bit. He pours the stew into two worn wooden bowls and hands one to Tess. She sips at it. It’s weak in flavour but otherwise a welcoming warmth against the chilling late evening breeze.

“So you know where Anders is at least?” he asks eventually after they have both finished eating and their bedrolls are rolled out on the ground.

“I have a lead,” she says, “I’ve had my contact in the Inquisition keep an eye out for a while and she’s sent me some clues which point me towards the Blackmarsh. That’s why I came through Vigil’s Keep - I wanted to check if the others had picked up anything.”

“The Blackmarsh? Why would he go to the Blackmarsh? There’s nothing there.”

_I wouldn’t quite say ‘nothing’,_ Tess thinks. She lays down on her camp bed and pulls her threadbare blanket of Highever Weave over her shoulders.

“It’s where he and Justice first met,” she says, gazing at the stars. “Maybe they’ve gone back to the beginning.”

“The beginning - did you know Anders before he joined with Justice?”

“Of course,” Tess says, “I’m the one who recruited them both to the Order.”

“You conscripted a _Demon_ into the Grey Wardens?”

“A _Spirit,_ ” Tess corrects, “and no, not exactly. He was trapped outside the Fade in a Grey Warden corpse so technically he was already part of the order.”

“I’m sorry, a Grey Warden what now?!”

Tess waves her arm lazily, unsure if Carver is even looking in her direction.

“It’s a little complicated,” she chuckles, “all I can say is that they were both a friend to me.”

Carver doesn’t have anything to reply to this and for a moment Tess thinks that he’s retired to try and get some sleep before he speaks up again.

“I saw you, you know,” he says conversationally, “And the King. Well before he was King and you were - anyway - I saw you at Ostagar.”

Tess rolls over to face Carver’s bedroll and finds him laying on his back, looking at the sky.

“You were at Ostagar?”

“Yeah. Not for long though - after they called the first retreat I ran,” he admits, “we’re from Lothering you see - I had to make sure my family didn’t get trampled by the Blight.”

“And you found your way to Kirkwall.”

“Yeah - well - not all of us.”

The mood turns somber but Tess does not push. Not all of her family made it out alive either. She’d rather not dig up ugly unwanted memories.

“Goodnight Carver,” she says, rolling onto her back once more.

“Goodnight, Commander,” comes the reply and Tess snorts.

_Respect_ from a fellow Grey Warden? Well that just won’t do.

◈

They set off moments after daybreak when mist still clings to the ground and there is no sound save for the cacophony of the dawn chorus. Tess and Carver speak relatively little compared to the evening before and Tess can sense that her continued evasiveness upon answering questions is wearing on Carver’s nerves.

She _knows_ she can trust this man but somehow, making this known is hard. Multiple times she almost brings up the Architect, as Carver will soon find out about him anyway if he is to continue with Tess on her quest but every time she opens her mouth the words do not come and her throat dries painfully.

She feels she needs some proper reevaluating of her own self to tackle this issue. She’d never had trouble before confiding in people - Leliana, Zevran, Wynne, Morrigan, _Alistair_ \- they had all been family to her. When she’d been made Warden-Commander Tess had initially kept her new recruits at arms length. Her new position in the Order and her recent coronation had made her feel like she had to show her seniority but that soon crumbled when she got to know them all better. It didn’t help that Oghren kept telling nonsensical stories about her during their travels either.

She had wanted to appear professional. She’s not all too sure where the lying started.

_No, that’s not true,_ she corrects herself. The lying started with killing the Archdemon and the ritual that spared her life. It got worse with everything that happened with the Architect and the Mother and only kept going in the years that followed.

Not even Leliana knew about the Architect and Tess told Leliana everything. She _had_ told Alistair however; curled up in their bed in Denerim and shaking as she whispered to him the details of how the Fifth Blight really began. Alistair had held her and promised her they would never have to go through anything like that or Blight in their lifetimes again. It hadn’t been as comforting to her as it had meant to be.

And now here she is, the world falling apart, the Calling thrumming in her eardrums, and on a quest to find a magical cure which may or may not exist. 

The joy of it all.

_She’ll tell him when they find Anders,_ she convinces herself. And that’s a _when_ not an _if_ because she is _not_ trekking her way towards the Blackmarsh for the blasted man not to be there.

Maybe she should’ve brought a kitten with her as a peace offering. She chuckles at the idea.

“What’s so funny?” Carver asks.

“Nothing, really,” she says, smiling, “Just thinking about kittens as peace offerings and such.”

“A kitten? For Anders.”

“He likes cats,”

“Yeah, I remember,” says Carver, “he used to talk about this cat he had when he was a Warden. I can’t remember what it was called.”

“Ser Pounce-a-Lot?”

“Yeah that was it.”

“I got him that cat,” Tess smiles.

It’s a nice memory, a happy one. Anders had told her about the cat in the Circle tower and then when she’d seen that kitten wandering around the Keep she’d _had_ to present it to him. Tess remembers Anders taking the cat everywhere with him fondly. It feels like a lifetime ago now.

They’re truly within the Blackmarsh now and the whole place has the horses uneasy so Carver suggests they tie them up near the outskirts and continue on foot. Along the way, they are attacked by a pack of marsh wolves, malnourished and drooling from starving jaws. Tess can see the ribs poking out through matted and stinking fur and feels pity when she slits their throats. Carver wipes the blood off his sword on the long grass and they carry on.

Tess has no fond memories of this place. It’s as dark and damp and unsettling as it had been years before. The Baroness may no longer have her way over the land but Tess suspects the place will never return to how it used to be. She could almost retrace her steps through the marsh to where they’d found Kristoff’s body with her eyes closed. She feels like something is guiding her along and the feeling makes the beat in her head thrum louder. Being lead along the path that sentient Darkspawn had been sent by a vengeful Broodmother years before is _not_ lifting her spirits right now. 

“What if Anders isn’t here?” Carver asks as they draw near to the same old clearing.

Honestly, Tess isn’t sure. She’s hanging onto threadbare strings as it is with this whole thing. If they don’t find Anders she has no idea where to go from here and if they _do_ find him but he knows nothing then she still has no where else to go. 

She doesn’t answer Carver’s question and instead marches on into the clearing. 

There’s nothing and no one there which simultaneously is of no surprise to Tess whilst also making her stomach sink. She doesn’t know what she expected really, Anders to just be standing there waiting with open arms?

She sighs and rubs wearily at her forehead.

“What’s that?” says Carver from behind her and she turns to find him pointing at something across the clearing.

It’s a cave, Tess notices, the entrance hidden by mangled and rotting tree roots. For a moment, Tess dismisses it as the lair of the marsh wolves they had fought and killed earlier but something shines, reflecting the light, just inside the entrance which catches her attention.

Unsheathing her daggers, Carver follows suit with his sword and they draw nearer to the cave, high on alert. Cutting aside a hanging branch, Tess is about to enter the cave before a voice speaks up.

“I wouldn’t come any closer if I were you.”

It’s Anders. 

Tess knows his voice and the relief that washes over her makes her feel strangely elated. She almost wants to laugh. Anders emerges from the shadows of the cave and regards them.

“Anders, you fucking _bastard”_ Carver says, “What in the Maker’s name are you doing in this shithole?”

Anders starts. 

“Carver?!” hey says, confused, then turns to Tess, “Tess?”

“That would be us,” Tess says wryly and lowers her dagger.

“What are you doing here?”

“Hey, I asked you that first,” says Carver.

Anders looks at him. He looks tired, Tess thinks. Maybe a little ill. The clothes he wears are a little worse for wear and his hair is longer than she remembers.

To put it lightly, he looks like shit. _He’s not the only one,_ Tess imagines, but shit none the less.

“That’s none of your business actually ,” he says to Carver, putting on bravado.

“It is _my_ business though,” she tells him with a raised eyebrow.

Anders looks at her now, faint desperation in his eyes but they harden when they meet hers.

“It’s not,” he says stubbornly, pointing his chin up, “I’m not part of the Order anymore. You went back to court and I went back to what I do best; being a runaway apostate.”

Tess huffs out what might have been a laugh.

“And yet here we are now,” she says, now sober, “Anders, I need your help,”

Anders throws his hands up instantly, almost in surrender.

“No, nope, definitely not,” he’s shaking his head “last time I listened to that from you I ended up conscripted as a Grey Warden.”

“You would have preferred I let Rylock have you?” 

“Well no but everything’s different now.”

“Yes so I’ve heard,” Tess says, looking Anders up and down, “just how is Justice faring these days?”

“Not amazing,” Anders admits, “I assume you’ve heard about Kirkwall?”

“You could say that.”

Anders avoids eye contact with her but Tess cannot waver now. She _knows_ Anders, or at least, she _knew_ him anyway. It’s true, she doesn’t know how much he’s changed - simply due to time or his merging with Justice - but her friend must be in there somewhere. She looks at Carver for support.

“Listen Anders,” he says, “we’re not about to tell on you to the Chantry or anything. You don’t lose anything by telling us what we need to know - then you can go back to, uh, living in this swamp.”

Anders frowns at him, affronted.

“I’m not _living_ in this swamp.”

“Evidence says otherwise,” Carver folds his arms but there’s a hint of mirth in his voice. He’s _enjoying_ this. 

“I’m just _visiting.”_

“Visiting? You always picked weird marshlands as your holiday destinations or is this the demon’s preference?”

_“Spirit,”_ Anders and Tess correct him simultaneously.

“Don’t antagonise him Carver,” Tess rolls her eyes, “I want his help not his eternal hatred.”

“I don’t think anyone could eternally hate you, Tess,” Anders says.

“Oh how sweet, you _do_ care.”

Anders pouts, “I thought you said _don’t_ provoke the dangerous apostate.”

Tess grins, “I used none of those words, good ser.”

Now it’s Anders’ turn to roll his eyes.

He doesn’t look at defensive as he had before and Tess can see that the joking around is working in helping him to loosen up. He looks a lot younger with a smile.

“Look,” he says, “I don’t want any trouble-”

“And there won’t be,” Tess interrupts, “like Carver said - we’re not planning on turning you in to anyone. I just want information.”

“Oh,” Anders says and he looks relieved, “well, uh, what did you want to know? Not how to get possessed by a spirit I hope?”

Tess chuckles.

“Not even in the slightest,” she says before sobering, “those papers you were researching about the Architect - do you remember anything about them?”

“Who’s the Architect?” Carver asks but Tess is looking at Anders.

“The research we stole from that mine?” Anders asks, wary, “not particularly, why?”

_Not particularly._ Tess had been hoping for more than that. She can feel her hopes and plans fading even though she desperately tries to hold them in place.

“I thought maybe there’d be something about his research on Warden blood that could help,” she rubs at her temples, “I’m looking for a cure.”

“To the Calling?”

“No, the common cold,” she shoots him a contemptuous look, “yes, the Calling. Are you hearing it too?”

Anders’ hand goes to his head.

“I thought it was just me,” he said, echoing Tess’ own confession to Sigrun and Oghren the day previously.

“Every Warden is hearing it,” says Carver, “but it’s not what it seems.”

“Not what it seems? What does that mean?” Anders looks genuinely interested but seems to catch himself.

“We don’t know,” says Carver, “Stroud was looking into it more but I have no idea where he’s disappeared to.”

“Yes that is the other thing we’re investigating” says Tess.

Anders turns back to Tess now.

“I don’t know what was in those papers and I don’t know where they are but there could be something left in the Silverite Mine? I could help you look.”

A glimmer of hope.

“I thought you didn’t want to be involved in Warden business.”

“Hunting Darkspawn, no,” Anders agrees, “but if we really find a cure then that would help hundreds of Wardens bound to the Calling.”

There’s that spark in his eyes that Tess remembers. She smiles wickedly at him.

“Well I’d be happy to have you along,” she tells him genuinely, “the more the merrier!”

“Is it though?” she hears Carver mutter under his breath.

There’s hope yet, Tess thinks fiercely in this damp and desolate wasteland. 

_What an entourage you’ve accumulated,_ she imagines Morrigan sniffing with an air of disgust, _All that’s missing is a dog._

Tess grins at the two of them and Anders smiles back. Carver still looks confused. 

  
"Is _anyone_ going to tell me who this bloody Architect is?"


	3. Chapter 3

_ 2 years previously: _

_ It’s a morning in late Bloomingtide and Tess isn’t sure if it’s the heat or the birds crying outside that wakes her. Cracking an eyelid open, she sees the sun filtering into the room through the deep red curtains casting a warm and rosy glow.  _

_ Letting out a deep breath through her nose Tess rolls over, unwilling to face the new day even if she might sweat herself to death in the grand old bed. Before her now is Alistair, his back to her, still dozing in the late morning and taking advantage of the fact that no one has interrupted them with  _ important matters  _ yet. _

_ He is no doubt tired from the night before. They had stayed up late discussing leads or clues to a possible cure to the Calling. The very idea of it excited Tess and frightened her all at once. _

_ Tess lets out a contented sigh at the view before her before her sharp eyes pick up something that catches the strengthening suns rays. Perking up, Tess leans over and inspects the back of Alistair’s head. _

_ There, at the crown of his head are five strands of silver amongst the warm brown. It should not be such a revolutionary thing to notice. Time passes for every man of course but this scares Tess. _

_ Alistair is only twenty-seven. Far too young to be going grey. _

_ It’s the life of a Warden, she knows it is. _

_ The sight freezes Tess and she doesn’t know how long it is that she stares at the back of Alistair’s head until he eventually rolls onto his back with a yawn, eyes open but sleepy. _

_ He clearly feels the weight of her gaze on him and he turns his face to meet hers, eyes flirtatious at first before he takes in what she’s sure is the expression one might wear upon seeing a ghost that must rest on her face. _

_ “What’s wrong?” he asks, concerned. _

_ Her eyes snap back from where they had been gazing off into space after Alistair had turned his head and meets his eyes. _

_ “I need to leave.”  _

◈

The journey south through the Wending Wood is fraught with awkward silence.

Back on their mounts, Anders sits behind Tess on Gwawr. The mare is a sturdy thing and as Tess is smaller than Carver, it makes logistic sense for them to share. Besides, Tess is not entirely convinced Carver wouldn’t ‘accidentally’ buck Anders off if he were to share his horse. It’s tense, but if Tess can handle travelling with Morrigan and Alistair at each other’s throats every waking moment of the day; she can handle anything.

Her throat constricts as she thinks about it. Morrigan would do something like insult Alistair’s intelligence and Alistair would fire back with something like ‘at least I have friends’ and then the bickering would continue. It had been a routine and well-practiced constant in their lives for a year until the Blight was ended.  _ After,  _ Tess would sometimes imagine what Morrigan’s scathing retort to something Alistair would do or say would be but had always held her tongue. Now she wishes she could joke around in Denerim’s Palace about Alistair’s new uniform making him walk like he has a stick up his arse or anything.

Contrary to popular belief, Tess had not vanished without word or trace from the King. Quite the opposite was true, really. Alistair and Tess had discussed the idea of searching for a cure for years. At first it had been a fanciful thing; a child’s dream that would only waste the time they still had if they were to entertain it. However, over time, the dream had become more of a driving force behind Tess’ work. Like the beginning of her career all over again, she started appearing less and less in Court and more in Amaranthine with the Wardens until one day she woke up in their bed in Denerim and blurted to Alistair she was actually going to look for it.

Saying goodbye had been heartbreaking but Tess could not allow herself to regret it. This was a  _ cause  _ and it would help countless. If there was one single defining moment that had sealed this fate for her, it had been waking up and rolling over to find a smattering of silver hairs at the back of Alistair’s head.

Observing her two fellow Wardens now, Tess can see the same fatigue in them, a small streak of grey at Carver’s temple and deep lines under Anders’ eyes. They have been Wardens about as long as she and Alistair have. As long as Nathaniel, Oghren, Velanna and Sigrun have. It is a comfort as well as a worry.

How long do any of them have left, she wonders before shaking herself. Such thoughts will not help her now.

The path they take is familiar. Mostly. Tess remembers travelling this way when she first visited the Wending Wood. Only now, the land is not so Blight-damaged and the forest looks whole again. There’s also the fact that there is no Dalish mage trying to kill them this time. The entrance to the Silverite mine itself looks the same as before, albeit a little more overgrown and shrouded in foliage.

It had been a point of investigation for Tess’ Wardens at the keep for a while after the Architect had been dealt with but nothing else had been turned over. This is why the mine remains untouched. For a while even, they’d had guards stationed to deter travellers from entering. Tess doesn’t know what she’s hoping to find within but  _ any  _ lead they might discover will do.

“Well, here it is,” Anders says for, Tess believes, something to fill the silence.

“Okay, before we go in,” Carver says, visibly mustering his patience, “I need to know what’s going on because I signed up to help not be excluded from all this secret bullshit.”

He’s right but Tess’ throat still constricts with the secret she’s kept for the past decade. She dismounts and the others do the same. Taking a breath, Tess tells him.  _ Everything.  _ About the sentient Darkspawn who called himself the Architect and his experiments on Wardens in an attempt to liberate the rest of his kind no matter the cost. About the Mother and her attempt to burn Amaranthine to the ground. Carver does not interrupt, just patiently waits for her to finish. When she does, she’s out of breath and feels lighter than she has in a while. It feels good to talk for once. Like a weight she hadn’t known she’d been carrying was suddenly lifted from her back.

Maybe she should tell the truth more often, Tess thinks blithely, It would do wonders for her mental health.

“A  _ sentient  _ Darkspawn,” Carver says, not a question, “how is that possible?”

“We still don’t know,” Tess admits.

She hates it but that’s the truth of it. The Architect himself claimed to have no memory or inclination as to why he was different from the rest of his brethren and there had been no indication of his past in his laboratory when they had been here.  _ Was he really just a freak of nature?  _ Tess doesn’t know but that’s a worry for another day.  _ After  _ the hole in the sky has been fixed,  _ after  _ the cure has been found. Maybe one day she’ll run out of  _ afters  _ and  _ to-dos  _ and she can just rest. Visit the Palace gardens before she forgets what the flowers smell like.

The three of them descend through the mine and it is quiet, mostly. A few giant spiders get cleared out on the way down but thankfully there seems to be no trace of any dragonlings like before. Tess is  _ not  _ in the mood for battling a dragon nest today. Spiders, however, she can handle.

“My brother hates spiders,” Carver says conversationally after pulling his greatsword from an arachnid’s still-warm corpse, “never told anyone but he absolutely can’t stand the things.”

Tess wipes spider goo off of her dagger on a furry leg and gives a small smile. Carver must miss his brother, she thinks sadly. With everything that’s been going on, it must be a while since they had last seen each other.

“Oh trust me, we knew,” Anders says with a small laugh, “There was this one time up in Sundermount when this great big beast of a spider came down and I’ll never forget the way he  _ squealed-” _

Carver laughs but his eyes look a little sad.

“What was he like?” says Tess, “your brother?”

“An ass,” Carver says at the same time that Anders says, “a good man.”

Carver rolls his eyes.

“Oh yeah, of course, a good man but also an ass.”

Anders laughs.

“You’re not wrong.”

It goes quiet for a while as they descend deeper into the mine until Carver speaks up again.

“He used to freeze my boots solid sometimes to piss me off,” he says, “when we were children.”

She’s sure  _ that’s  _ not written in any book. A small personal thing that Carver’s held onto like Tess’ memories of Fergus hiding all of her arrows when she’d wanted to practice her archery skills or her father slipping Oren sugary treats when Oriana wasn’t looking. The sort of things you remember about someone you love.

_ Alistair whispering suggestively to her behind Eamon’s back, “have a drink every time he says ‘duty’” - “we’d be off our heads,” - “that’s the point!” _

Anders laughs again and then Carver launches into a whole story about how once his brother had roped his twin sister into pranking him with their magic for a whole day only to be subjected to a stern telling off by their father before supper. The tale goes on until they reach the Architect’s lab in the heart of the mine and then Carver’s animated story-telling goes quiet.

_ This is it. _ Tess pushes the door open almost nervously. The Architect and his minions have been dead for years and this place has long been abandoned but there’s still that prickle of fear at the top of her spine. The laboratory is, well, just as she remembers it. Tess had returned a few times after the Architect was dead to position soldiers here. At the time, the Darkspawns research had been kept here, with archivists and researchers studying the materials and notes left behind. Over time, the mine had been abandoned because of the lack of evidence left but maybe,  _ just maybe,  _ something crucial had been overlooked by someone who didn’t know what to look for.

Ander’s himself had been stationed her and he seems to know immediately where to go. There are stacks of papers and boxes of machinery and strange instruments everywhere covered in cobwebs old and new but Anders beelines straight to the musty desk where notes and diagrams have been left untouched apart from thick coverings of dust. Anders blows the dust off of the stack of paper on top before sharing it out between himself, her and Carver.

“You know what this is?” Tess asks.

“Yes,” Anders says, scanning the pages, “these are what you mentioned - some of the Architect’s notes on his experiments with Warden blood. I didn’t think much of it at the time but there’s got to be something here.”

Tess nods, thoughtful. At the time, they hadn’t dug too deeply into the Architect taking Warden blood because it had mostly been assumed that its only use had been somehow making the Darkspawn sentient. They’d found no real use in the research otherwise and to Tess’ knowledge it had been abandoned. But it always comes to blood. The Joining itself is a blood ritual and if Darkspawn blood makes a Grey Warden and Warden blood awakens a Darkspawn, well, there’s  _ got  _ to be at least something. Something the Architect had tried but failed or something that had worked but not as well.

Tess looks down at the paper he’s given her and finds, written in elegant script, is a document about  _ her.  _ It’s the Architect’s notes from after he had subdued Tess and her party years before. She’s read these before and knows that there’s one for each of those that were with her but it is still strange. The text is fragmented and mostly fading now, looking as though it had been written with the ink running out, but just readable.

_ The woman…...appears to be the one whom commands the others…..I shall take her blood as well…. _

There’s nothing of any use in the notes and Tess lowers them with a sigh just as Anders exclaims.

“Yes!” he says, “I thought I remembered this - dragons have this interesting way of resisting the Taint for some time. Their bodies can grow cysts around blighted flesh to prevent it from spreading.”

“That must be why the Architect kept dragons here - to experiment with the Taint on them,” Tess theorises, “but they can’t keep the taint out indefinitely. Eventually it does corrupt them.”

Anders nods, nose still buried in the papers.

“Yes but what if there was a way to develop that kind of resistance - it would give people a fighting chance against Blight sickness - isn’t there that Dalish remedy that slows the taint?”

“Yes, I’ve looked into that,” says Tess.

She’d introduced Avernus to this already and he had been conducting his own research into it. The dragon cysts - as disgusting as that sounds - could be useful. If there’s anyone who could research  _ that  _ it’s Avernus. Perhaps she should contact some dragon experts also. It’s certainly something to look into.

“You know, I bet there’s more on Blight resistance in the libraries in Weisshaupt,” says Carver, looking up from his own stack of papers.

“Oh there could be,” Tess agrees, “ but they haven’t been answering my ravens since I left Denerim.”

“Really? Why not?”

“There’s unrest in the Order, has been for a while,” Tess says before adding darkly, “and if Clarel has her way it’ll be even worse.”

“But still like, ignoring you? You’re the Warden Commander of Ferelden.”

Tess sighs. Her eyes glaze as she stares at a spot on the wall far away.

“Before I ‘disappeared’ I was,” she admits vacantly, “I don’t think many would hold me to my rank today.”

“Are you kidding? You’re the Hero of-”

“Carver, don’t” Anders interrupts.

They both go silent and Tess realises it must be because of her. What does she look like, she wonders, tired and washed out and older than her years. They say that sometimes shell-shock takes time to develop and perhaps the years following the Fifth Blight had been so hectic that she hadn’t let it settle in her bones. But  _ she’s not got time for this, she’s not got time for this. _

“I will go to Weisshaupt,” she says eventually, quietly, “I’m just - scared I suppose.”

“Of what?”

She fiddles with the end of her braid, noticing how much of her hair has fallen free and is curling all around her head.

“Failure?” she phrases it like a question, “Rejection? Being stripped of my rank and sent, disgraced, back where I came from?”

It all sounds silly to her once it’s passed her lips. Even a little bit selfish. Is disgrace really what she fears? Tess sniffs.

“Anyway,” she says, “I want to look at these further - maybe away from the mine? With a desk not covered in spider shite?”

Carver and Anders unanimously agree, happy to be out from the oppression the mines walls bear down on them. Before long, and after a few more spider’s nests they’re on the surface in the Wending Wood once more. Tess takes a breath but the air feels wrong and her hair prickles at her neck.

“What the hell is that?!”

The exclamation comes from Carver just as Tess witnesses a great hulking beast of a creature emerge from the trees. It looks like it’s made mostly of red crystal which seems to glow in the gloom of the setting sun. beside it, come three smaller figures.

“Are those Templars?” Anders says.

“Not like any Templars I’ve seen!” says Carver.

He’s right - though these men appear like ordinary Templars in their armor, they too pulse with an uneasy red glow. Tess doesn’t like the look of this.

Spotting them, the giant crystal-creature roars and charges at them.

Jumping to the side to avoid being battered, Tess unsheaths her daggers just as Carver and Anders also draw their weapons. Running to the closest Templar, Tess avoids his sword and kicks him in the knees with her heavy boot. Distracted, she runs a dagger through his helmet. Unnaturally, the dead man does not bleed much from being stabbed through the skull but some small red crystals like those that make up the monster fall to the ground with a crunch as she pulls her blade free from the man’s face.

Right okay. _ That’s  _ Disconcerting.

Quickly looking around, she sees Anders taking out one of the other Templars whilst Carver distracts the great creature, narrowly avoiding being crushed by its mighty red fist. Tess turns her attention to the last remaining Templar.

“What is this thing?” Carver yells.

“No idea!” she says, blocking a blow of the Templar’s blade with her curved dagger.

“Great, that’s helpful!”

“Do I look like an encyclopedia to you?” she yells as the Templar narrowly misses slashing at her face.

As the Templar lurches with another missed blow, Tess uses the opportunity to duck close and sheath both her daggers through the weak spots in the armor and into the ribs. The Templar shudders before going limp and he too releases red crystals instead of blood as he falls to the ground.

“What are you made of?” Tess wonders under her breath as she inspects a red shard left on her knife as it glints in the dying light.

“Tess!”

She hears the shout, urgent and alarmed, but by the time she swings around there’s a crunch and a wet sound of very real not-made-of-crystals blood as the blade-like arm of the crystal monster buries itself in her middle.

The pain is unbearable but she cannot scream. Her voice seems to be caught as if severed by the wound. Instead, Tess coughs and warm blood spits rapidly from her lips. 

“No!” 

With an almighty yell, Anders unleashes an icy blast towards the creature, freezing it solid and immediately Carver is there with his greatsword, bringing it down on the creature’s head. The monster shatters and the arm buried within her falls to the ground, dragging Tess to her knees with a whimper. She’s been stabbed before, even badly, but nothing has ever hurt like this. Whatever the creature’s made of - it burns like poison.

She vaguely notices Carver and Anders rush over to her and hears Anders tell her, muted as if she’s underwater, that he needs to take the crystal out. Tess isn’t strong enough to muster up a reply and before the Mage can even do anything, she’s already succumbed to the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait - I've been busy - and probably expect a similar wait for the next chapter as I'll be taking a break to write my dissertation

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [@aphrodifte](https://aphrodifte.tumblr.com/) on tumblr and [this is what Tess looks like](https://aphrodifte.tumblr.com/post/184045604136/loisdraws-my-canon-warden-tess-cousland)


End file.
